


Topophilia

by misslonelyhearts



Series: Identity Unknown:  An Overwatch One Shot Collection [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7868464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslonelyhearts/pseuds/misslonelyhearts





	Topophilia

The cracks in the ceiling paint begin to fuse and blur as Fareeha’s climax builds.  And it feels like her back takes on that twisted shape, how heat conspires to separate her along some invisible line.  Angela’s tongue draws a hundred halos around her clit, spinning her up and pressing her down.  Fareeha squeezes her eyes shut, her grip shaking on the edge of the mattress.  
  
“Ungh, ah!” She bruises her own lip.  The fissures in the paint are still there when she opens her eyes, but they seem closer, wider, looser.  
  
“Hey,” says Angela, tapping her thigh. She blinks across Fareeha’s belly like hours have passed. “Where did you go?”  
  
“I don’t know, where I always go.”  Breath slowing, Fareeha covers her eyes. “Up.”  
  
A loud gurgling sound erupts at the other end of the bed, and Fareeha cracks a look at Angela from under her hand.  
  
“Hungry?”  
  
She cradles her belly while her still-damp mouth curls at the edges.  
  
“Starving.  I could positively murder a dish of ribollita right now,” Angela says, rolling off the bed to pour herself a glass of water from the carafe.  She stands at the window, peeking through the ugly curtains, hugging the glass to her bare chest.  “It feels sometimes that my love of Tuscany makes me more Florentine than Swiss.”  
  
“That’s strange.”  
  
Her mussed head quirks.  “You’ve never felt that? The love of a place as if it’s a person.”  
  
“No,” Fareeha replies flatly, dragging herself up against the headboard. “A place isn’t anything.  It’s a…stage, I guess.  What you do there is the thing to love.  Not streets and buildings.”  
  
“How precise of you,” Angela mutters, sipping her water.  
  
Drawing her knees up, Fareeha adds, “But if I ever love a place you’ll be the first to know.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Fareeha grins.  “Because it will be you I do there.”  
  
Angela snorts, sloshing water over the carpet, and says between giggles, “Then you’re prepared to declare your love of _Milwaukee_.”  
  
Sifting through the confusion of flights and sex and mission briefs shuttling across her brain, Fareeha groans.  
  
“God, is that really where we are?”


End file.
